Visions of a life once lived
by Bobbie1
Summary: This follows the finale from season five. Its my take on what happens after the gunfire erupts....or rather after the gunfire stops...chapters 9 added 88
1. Default Chapter

It all happened so fast. One minute we were sitting in that waiting room, the next...everything changed. It all happened so fast.  
  
I remember lying there on the floor. I don't know how long I lay there. I might of even passed out. I'm really not sure. Lying there like that...it hurt like hell. My body ached but I didn't think I'd been shot. I mean once you get shot, you don't forget that feeling. I was feeling a lot of things but that wasn't one of 'em.  
  
I heard footsteps...the voice inside my head was screaming for someone to help me. Trouble was my real voice didn't follow suit. It was as if the words were stuck in my throat. It took me a minute...more than a minute but I don't want to think it was all that long. I finally started to move, more afraid of what I didn't know than what might happen if I didn't move.  
  
On my left I saw Ty Davis. He appeared to be all right although he had this look on his face...this dazed look like he was conscious but unsure if what had happened were real. I understood that 'cause I'd been living this nightmare for longer than I cared to admit.  
  
Our eyes locked and he let out a breath. I did the same. Felt like I'd been holding my breath, fearful that someone would see me breathin' and starting shooting again, maybe this time shooting me in the head. Worse thing that could happen would be that I didn't die right away but rather I lay there, bleeding all over the floor, dying a slow painful death while the rest of the world was stuck in a holding pattern.  
  
I followed Ty's line of vision until my eyes stopped on Cruz. She wasn't moving...her eyes open but fixed on the ceiling. There was blood oozing from the side of her head and trickling from her mouth. She was dead.  
  
Once more my eyes locked on Ty's. He read my lips as I asked "you okay?" A nod of his head told me he was fine...or at least he thought he was.  
  
He mouthed the words 'you?' I nodded. For a split second the world seemed to be okay. That's before I turned my head to my right, looking over my shoulder. That's when I saw him. Bosco.  
  
My heart raced....then stopped...then raced again. He wasn't moving. He faced away from me so there'd be no eye contact...no mouthed questions...no nods of the head. Even if he'd been facing me, I didn't think any of that stuff would have happened.  
  
I needed to know if he was alive or...or not. That need greater than my own safety. I crawled over to him. My fingertips crazed his neck. It was faint...very faint. He was alive, for now but for how long?  
  
I glanced over at Ty, nodding my head, letting him know that Bosco wasn't dead. At least not yet.  
  
I didn't know how long he had...how long he could hang on without help. I didn't know if help would make it in time. I didn't know if there was anyone still alive to help him.  
  
'God help us' I said, my voice barely a whisper. It was the first sign that I still had a voice.  
  
Footsteps returned only this time, I heard voices as well. Lying back down on the floor, I did my best to lie still. My ears strained to hear them...trying to decide if the shooters were coming back to finish their massacre or if it was someone who might help save my partners life  
  
With my eyes closed tightly but not too tightly, I listened again.  
  
'Somebody...please help us' I replied. This time no words came out. No one would hear my voice. 


	2. Visions of a life once lived 2

It was quiet...too quiet. I mean this was a hospital. I was used to seeing people scurrying about and hearing pages for Dr so-and-so over the intercom.  
  
Now it was too quiet. I remember familiar faces only when I saw them, they seemed like strangers...strangers wearing the masks of people I knew.  
  
The first one I remember 'seeing' was Carlos. My reaction...well I lost it.  
  
I charged at him as best I could considering my body ached from lying still for what seemed like a long time. He was squatting down beside Bosco, his treatment bag at his side. He pulled out gear only everything he reached for something in the bag, I pushed him away.  
  
Feeling arms around me, I fought; my arms flailing at this intruder. Bosco's life was in danger and he needed medical assistance. I stared at these people, my mind sure they were there to hurt us...to finish the job they'd started. They were smart. I didn't stop to think that they were real...that this really was Carlos. Every time I looked over at Bosco, I saw the hidden faces...the guns aimed....the sound of gunfire.  
  
"Please don't hurt him!" I cried out.  
  
I shrugged off my captor, grabbing Carlos by the shoulder, pushing him away. Kneeling I reached for my partners hand.  
  
"Bos-co" I replied, my voice cracking as I spoke his name.  
  
Another 'familiar' face arrived, this man too trying to pull me from Bosco's side.  
  
"No. no... I won't let them hurt him..." I screamed, my arms again fighting for my release.  
  
I don't remember much after that. The next thing I knew I woke up in a room alone. In my arm was an IV line...my arms immobilized.  
  
That's when Lieu entered the room only it wasn't Lieu. They were smart but I was smarter.  
  
"Where's Bosco?" I demanded to know.  
  
"You need to calm down Faith..." he replied, giving up that I would soon calm down. "He's in surgery."  
  
"Surgery....for what? What'd you do to him?"  
  
Lieu looked at me, shaking his head then turning to leave.  
  
I fought to get out of the bed...to somehow find my partner.  
  
It was then that I heard yet another voice...the voice of my daughter.  
  
"Mom? Mom, please don't....you'll hurt yourself."  
  
"Emily?" my voice was soft, shaky as I struggled to focus on her voice.  
  
"Mom? For a minute there, you had me worried."  
  
"I'm all right baby," I replied almost out of habit. I certainly didn't feel fine. I felt like I was in a haze. "Em...you're okay?" I questioned, studying her from head to toe.  
  
"I'm fine...I just got here a little while ago," she explained meaning she hadn't been there when the shootings had taken place. "They wouldn't let me see you so I waited."  
  
"You're okay? Charlie? Is he okay?"  
  
"He's fine...he's with grandma but he's fine."  
  
"Fred? Where's Fred? Is he here?"  
  
Her face changed and I had my answer.  
  
"You came her alone?"  
  
"I'm fine mom...there's like a million cops swarming the place."  
  
One cop wasn't swarming. I needed to know.  
  
"Bosco?"  
  
"Didn't Lieu tell you? He's in surgery."  
  
"Lieu was here?"  
  
"Yeah he was here right before I came in, don't you remember?"  
  
I didn't tell her the truth 'cause I wasn't sure of it myself. I'd been dreaming only it wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare. She was worried enough; I didn't need to frighten her too.  
  
I t wasn't until later that day that I got the first bit of news on Bosco. I still remember the doctor's exact words.  
  
"He's still in surgery."  
  
I understood this was to be the good news only it wasn't good enough for me. I needed more like what kind of surgery. I didn't even know where Bosco had been shot. He was my partner and I didn't even know. I did know one thing...that I had to hold it together. Bosco would need me to be strong. I didn't want him to hear later that I'd fallen apart. I knew in the back of my mind that he'd hate to hear that he'd worried me.  
  
I got the distinct impression there was more to this...much more. I also felt those who were there including Lieu, Ty, Sully, and several big shots from the 55...they didn't want me to hear whatever it was the doctor was holding back on.  
  
It didn't matter cause I wasn't going anywhere...at least not until I got news on Bosco. I must have had that look on my face 'cause Lieu nodded at the nurse.  
  
"Officer Boscorelli took several shots...three in all."  
  
"Where?" The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to even think of what to say.  
  
I didn't miss the look on the doctor's face as he glanced at Lieu before continuing.  
  
"One shot entered his upper arm," she said indicating on his arm just where the shot had entered Bosco's arm. "There was minimal damage to the triceps."  
  
"And the other two?" I questioned.  
  
"The second entered just below the ninth rib. It entered his left lung. The lung was punctured. It will be repaired and re-inflated. It's a fairly routine procedure."  
  
This was minor...so far it was minor. The worst was yet to come and in my heart, I felt the worst would more than make up for the minimal damage caused by the first two gunshots.  
  
I couldn't have been more right. 


	3. Visions of a life once lived 3

I noticed Nurse Proctor's eyes quickly survey the room, getting the same response from each one of us.  
  
"It's very serious. Look, I wish I had better news for you. He'll be in surgery for a while. I'll keep you updated as best I can but as you can imagine, were short-staffed after the shootings tonight. If you have any questions, you can have me paged."  
  
It was with mixed emotion that I watched Mary silently walk away. On one hand, I had a million questions but it was obvious that Mary had no more information. Had she been able to tell us more, she would have. On the other hand, I didn't know if I could find a voice to ask the numerous questions that flooded my mind.  
  
One word...one tiny little five-letter word had the potential to tumble my already shaky house of cards that had come to represent my life.  
  
"He's strong Faith," Lieu replied, his tone of voice missing its usual strength. I hadn't missed that. Neither had Ty or Sully as both of them stood in stoned silence.  
  
With my lips tight holding back a range of emotions, I nodded my head. It was the only function I was able to control at the moment.  
  
I'd all but forgotten that Emily was still standing beside me. She had been anyway. Now she sat beside me. Her voice a whisper...she recited that same five-letter word Mary had just hanging.  
  
"Brain?"  
  
I glanced over at her; the expression on her face must've been a mirrored image of my own.  
  
Without a word I put an arm around her small shoulders. She fell into me, her arms wrapped around my waist.  
  
"He's strong baby...he's strong," I replied, not even realizing I'd said the same thing Lieu just had. I hope it carried more weight...offered Emily ore comfort than when Lieu had said them.  
  
I don't know if my words were an effort to convince Emily or myself. Either way I think they feel on deaf ears.  
  
From what little Mary had to offer, we knew the bullet had entered his brain on the left side. Its point of entry had been just above his ear. I know it sounds silly but if she'd said 'head' instead of 'brain' maybe it wouldn't have sounded so bad. I know that makes little sense but 'brain' sounded more serious...more life-threatening than the word 'head'. I was grasping for any little piece of hope...anything positive to hold onto.  
  
It was a little over an hour later that Mary reappeared. It was a surge of energy that I didn't know I had left. That energy diminished almost as fast as it came. It was too soon....too soon for him to be out of surgery.  
  
Apparently Mary knew that too. She held her hands up, palms facing out.  
  
"He's still in surgery," she replied. It was then that I noticed her attention was focused on me.  
  
"I was hoping you could help me out," she replied. "It's Rose...she's taken a turn for the worse. Do you know of any family members I should contact?"  
  
For the second time in a couple hours, I was at a loss for words. I sat there, my head shaking to indicate a no reply. After a few moments, I offered what little help I had to give. Really, it was no help at all...my thoughts merely confirmations of what Mary already knew.  
  
"Other than Bosco...Mikey's gone...I don't know of any other family. She has an ex-husband but I wouldn't know how to contact him."  
  
"It was a long shot," Mary offered. "Thank you anyway."  
  
"Can I see her?" I questioned causing Mary to stop.  
  
"Of course," I said, getting to my feet. This was Rose we were talking about. As worried as I was about Bosco and with good reason, I knew he wouldn't want Rose to be alone. In all the chaos of the shootings, I'd completely forgotten she was in Mercy.  
  
"I'll go with you" Emily offered, getting to her feet.  
  
I glanced over at Lieu before following Mary.  
  
"We'll find you if there's any word."  
  
"Thanks Lieu," I said with only a nod of my head.  
  
I had no idea what I was doing....what I could say but I knew Bosco wouldn't want Rose to be alone. He wouldn't want her to...to die alone. The thought left me choked up.  
  
Luckily Mary noticed and she paused before we entered Rose's room.  
  
"In addition to the injury to her arm, she also has internal injuries that include her heart and both lungs. It's a miracle she survived the surgery."  
  
"Has she regained consciousness?" I asked.  
  
"No, she was unconscious when she was brought in. Faith, we were able to operate since Bosco authorized it when she was brought in. I don't know if she's going to need further surgery or if her body is strong enough to withstand it. Since she got out of surgery we've haven't been able to stabilize her."  
  
"She knows about Bosco," I replied getting a strange look from both Emily and Nurse Proctor.  
  
"I know it sounds crazy but the two of them are very close...she knows he's hurt. She always told him...every time he got himself shot or something...'don't you die before me'. She knows."  
  
Bosco kept his promise to his mother. She died while Emily and I were sitting with her. I'd been talking to her, holding her hand, telling her things that I don't remember saying. In the end, I hope she could hear me and I hope she understood how much her son loved her...how much both her sons loved her. I glanced over at Emily, sitting at the foot of Rose's bed. Tears had stained her face. I reached over taking her hand in mine. She stood, putting her around my shoulder as the two of us cried together.  
  
At that moment, more than anything I needed Bosco to survive his injuries. I hoped that he was strong enough and that he didn't know that his mother had died. Somehow though, despite the fact that he was several floors above and unconscious due to the anesthesia I know that he knew she was gone. At least I'd had something to occupy my mind while we waited for news on Bosco. I would have preferred that the time not be spent making initial preparations for his mother's funeral but that was exactly what I did. I'd contacted a funeral home owned by the same one that had planned the services for Mikey. It seemed odd to me that Rose was no longer grieving the loss of her son. She was with him.  
  
It was still several hours before we got word on Bosco. He had survived surgery but he'd be in recovery for several hours before being moved to ICU. By the time they moved him, my emotions had reached the anger point. I was angry with the lives lost due to one man's need for revenge. Anti-crime and Narcotics had suffered great losses. The total lives lost to the 55 had reached nine with another six injured. Numerous hospital staff and civilians had been killed or injured. The numbers seemed to change constantly.  
  
Somewhere along the line, Ty had informed someone of our belief that Mann was behind this. With the loss of so many officers and civilians, the FBI had been brought in. Their combined efforts with the NYPD had stopped Mann's plane from being able to get airborne. In the end, further bombings took the lives of those on board...including Mann. I found it ironic than someone with a name like Mann was far from being one. In the end, he'd taken the cowardly way out just as he'd been the coward all along...finding others to do the dirty work of destroying lives.  
  
Whether or not Bosco's life would be destroyed hung in the balance. For those of us who called him friend, co-worker, or Uncle B...the final decision as to how much our lives would change remained to be seen. 


	4. Visions of a life once lived 4

I don't know how to put it into words. It was just too much. On one hand, I was a basket case...confused by so much trauma...Mikey's horrific death, the attacks on ACU and Narcotics, a car through the building at Mikey's wake, Rose's injuries followed by her sudden death, being shot at, and the fear of losing my partner. I didn't know how much more I could handle. I wasn't sure I was handling what I'd already been dealt.  
  
Looking back, I was grateful for those who were with us during that time. Nurse Proctor had arranged for an almost private waiting area for us. Faces came and went although several had hung around. One familiar face was Ty's mom, Maggie. She wore several hats that afternoon as it turned into evening. Of course she was a mother first.  
  
Although Ty's injuries weren't serious, he had been injured by flying glass. A splinter from a plastic chair had imbedded his lower left leg. His injuries had been stitched and bandaged. Even though doctors would have preferred he get some rest, he insisted on waiting for word on Bosco. Sully had been injured as well. In an attempt to not get shot, he'd slipped on broken glass, fracturing two ribs as well as his left wrist. He insisted on being with us as much as possible. On occasion he'd been forced to go back to ER and lie down but he was fighting it the whole time. He told the doctors and nurses repeatedly that he didn't want to lie down; he wanted to wait with us. They promised to update him if he'd just get some rest. It was almost humorous watching him refuse. I say it was almost humorous 'cause I know if Bosco could have seen him, he would have given him a hard time. And I know Sully would have given Bosco a hard time, insisting that he didn't care about Bosco's injuries. He wanted to be there to support me. The thing is, he wasn't fooling any of us.  
  
We finally received news although the answers we were waiting for were actually just more questions. The bottom line was that we wouldn't know the extent of his injuries for a few days...the full extent might take even longer. Despite the advances in medicine, there were still a lot of mysteries when it came to the human brain.  
  
It was morning before I was allowed in to see Bosco. The doctors had explained that he was still out of it. They wanted to keep him sedated so his body could rest. He had a lot of healing to do and he needed all the rest he could get.  
  
I wondered into this room under the watchful eye of Mary. I hadn't noticed that she'd left but since she was dressed differently, I figured she must have at some point. She stayed by my side as I stood several steps away from his bed. I felt Mary's gentle prodding, pushing me towards him.  
  
To look at him, I would have sworn this wasn't my partner. His head was bandaged. I couldn't see it except in my mind but his finally grown out dark hair was gone. I'd never said a word to him about his hair but during his time with Cruz...that buzz cut just wasn't him. Now as I stood there, creating a new image, I knew we were back to that buzz look, or even worse. He was hooked up to numerous tubes and wires; I didn't ask what they were doing for him. Knowing that they were helping to keep him alive was enough for me. Behind the tubes I assumed were helping him breath easier while his lung healed I noticed his face...pale and slightly bloated. Again I didn't ask. I'd seen on TV how a person's face can be that way following surgery. Truth or just TV, I didn't need to know anymore. For now, he was alive. I took a deep breath, squelching any reaction to what I was seeing. Mary, though, had been right beside me and she wasn't new to this type of thing. She found me a chair which I all but fell into. I was exhausted since I'd slept little in the past twenty-four hours. My visit was short as would be numerous visits over the next day or so.  
  
The days that followed were a series of first.  
  
The first time Bosco opened his eyes I was with him...holding his hand. I guess it wasn't so strange holding his hand. I wasn't married any longer, not in the sense of the word anyway. Legally yeah but beyond that I knew my marriage was over the morning of Mikey's wake. Sitting there with Bosco, I talked to him, told him about Sully and Ty and about the others from the 55 who'd been injured. I didn't tell him about Cruz though. I wasn't up to talking about death with him. My superstitious side told me that was a bad idea, that if I mentioned death while with Bosco, he might die too. Besides if I was going to talk to him about death, I figured it should be about Rose and I couldn't bring myself to mention her name just yet. If, in fact, he could hear me, I didn't want him to find out about her death that way.  
  
It was an afternoon visit. I was talking with him as usual and he started to move his head. So I continued talking to him, trying to get him to follow my voice; to open his eyes. He opened them for just an instant, and then closed them again. He fought a battle to open them and keep them open. Eventually his persistence paid off and I watched as his eyes focused on me.  
  
The smile on my face at that moment could have lit up a room. I was so happy to see those blue eyes looking back at me. I told him all the usual stuff you say to someone whose just woke up from an ordeal such as this. The 'you're awake' and 'it's about time you woke up' stuff. It sounds silly now that we say that stuff. I mean isn't it obvious?  
  
Mary came in while I was there. She summoned the doctors who came in and proceeded to run a bunch of tests while I was forced back into the waiting area. It was half a day later that I got to see him again. I was expecting two things from him. Turns out my expectations didn't come to pass.  
  
I expected him to ask about Rose. He didn't. I also expected him to make some sort of comment about the fact that I was okay. He didn't.  
  
What he did do was confirm to me what the doctors had told me. I found my answer in his eyes...the lack of it in his eyes. I was actually grateful when Mary came in and told me she was sorry but I'd have to cut my visit short. The doctors needed to run a series of tests. I didn't know how much longer I could have stayed with him. I offered him the 'I'll see you later' reply with a quick touch to his shoulder before leaving the room.  
  
Back in the hallway I lost it, sobbing on Mary's shoulder. I guess to hear her suddenly say 'he's okay' surprised me until I discovered Lieu was there with Ty. Sully was on crutches but he was there too. To see me crying as I was they must've thought Bosco had died. That explained Mary's sudden comment.  
  
"Faith?" Lieu replied, touching my arm. "What happened?"  
  
"He doesn't know me," I sobbed, once again losing my composure. "He doesn't know who I am."  
  
Lieu's expression changed from worry to shock.  
  
"Did he say something to make you think this?"  
  
I'd forgotten that I'd been the only there when the doctors told me about their concerns with his memory. I hadn't believed them. This was Bosco...my partner...my best friend. Of course he'd remember me.  
  
"He didn't have to Lieu," I tried to explain as I pulled it together. "I just know."  
  
I turned to Sully, knowing somehow that he'd understand.  
  
"You know how it is when something happens...like after the shootings here...your first thought is for your partner. You want to know if your partner is okay. Then when you get to see him, you have that sense of relief. Despite your own injury everything sort of changes when you know your partner is okay. I didn't see that...I know Bosco. He looked at me and it was as if he as looking at a stranger...he should be happy...relieved...that sense of relief...it wasn't there...he doesn't know me."  
  
Lieu and the others turned their attention to Mary who led us to a waiting area. I knew Lieu and the others were at a loss but I couldn't bring myself to discuss it. One of the doctors appeared and I sat there, hearing the disturbing news all over again.  
  
Bosco had been unable to tell them basic information...his name, the year...that sort of stuff. He didn't know what had happened to him. On a positive note, he was responding to other tests. He seemed to understand his injuries as they'd explained them to him. He was also able to follow basic commands regarding motor skills; moving an arm...his toes. He was also able to speak although it was difficult for him as his throat was still sore from the surgery and having had tubes in his throat. On a negative note, they'd tried to weave familiar things into a conversation. He hadn't responded when they mentioned colors; plum, navy, rose. Hearing his mother's name hadn't initiated a response.  
  
Will he ever remember or how long would this last were two questions the doctors couldn't answer. They were awaiting the results of some tests with more to run before they could make that determination. I'd been around the hospital so long I was sounding like the doctors.  
  
The first time I left the hospital was four days after Bosco was shot. I joined an over-flowing room of friends and co-workers for the services for Mikey and Rose. I still had no idea how to contact Bosco's father. He hadn't been to the hospital to see Rose before her death and he hadn't been there to see Bosco. I stopped off at Mercy briefly on my way to the church on the off chance that Bosco had regained his memory. In my heart, I felt that he would want his brother and his mother laid to rest. The two of them deserved that much. The funerals were sad yet touching. The minister knew Rose well. He spoke of her as a long-time member of the church and as a friend. Several neighbors came forward and told stories of Mikey's childhood and of the relationship between mother and sons. Bosco was not forgotten. He was in the hearts and thoughts of everyone there.  
  
It was a warm bright and sunny afternoon when the funeral procession made its way to the cemetery. Church bells rang in the background...there were more floral arrangements than I could count.  
  
Missing from the services were Anthony and his side of the family. In a way it was a strange, odd feeling although in another sense, it was calming...peaceful. For a short time, I was almost glad Bosco couldn't remember us. He'd been spared the tremendous grief the loss of Mikey and his mother would bring. On the other hand, I think his current sense of loss was far worse than anything he would experienced the day of the funerals for his mother and brother. Looking back, I didn't think it was possible that Bosco could ever feel more lost than the day he lost his beloved mother. I was wrong. While we were saying goodbye, Bosco was back at Mercy, struggling to come to terms with a life he knew nothing about.  
  
Over the next week or so, I learned more about brain injuries than I ever wanted to know. The complexity of the human brain is not easy to understand. But, further tests showed that the area of the brain that dealt with memory loss such as Bosco's hadn't been destroyed by either the bullet or the surgery that followed. It had been damaged to some extent but there was the possibility that he'd regain some of what was lost. Whether that was tomorrow, next week, next month, or a year from now was anyone's guess. 


	5. Visions of a life once lived 5

I wake up feeling as if I'm in a fog. It hurts to open my eyes...to keep them open but I keep trying again and again. Once I manage to keep them open I discover a bright light overhead...the source of why my eyes hurt.  
  
I was trying to open my eyes I felt like I was in some kind of a tunnel. It was dark there...dark and quiet. It didn't bother me but then the silence was interrupted by a voice. I could hear someone talking to me...someone close by although I didn't see anyone around...all I heard was her voice. I can tell she's upset. I feel as if I should know the voice but I can't place it. I try to call out to her thinking that she might be hurt...that she might need me. My voice fails me...either that or she can't hear me. I listen trying to understand what she's saying but all I know is that she sounds desperate...panicked.  
  
I listen harder, straining to understand her but I can't make out what she's saying. Over and over I fail to see anyone. Her voice is joined by others...others that I can't see. I feel movement now like I'm being moved somewhere. This moving around is making me dizzy. It finally stops only now I feel a chill. The coldness doesn't last very long before I feel a wave of warmth come over me. I feel someone touching me...touching my arm. The feeling ends just as fast as it started and once again the dizziness returns only this time it deepens. I give up fighting it. I don't want to know what's being said anymore. I'm tired of looking for faces I can't see.  
  
I'm back in my tunnel...surrounded by darkness once more. The dizziness is gone but the voices return. I don't bother looking for faces. I know there are none...just voices. I'm lying there, listening but not seeing anyone when one face finally appears. I try to call out to her but my voice fails me. It's the face of a woman. She older - around 50 or so with shoulder-length dark hair. She says something but all I see are her lips moving....she smiles, waving at me. Then she's gone. It doesn't make any sense to me that I can hear voices around me yet I see no one. Then a face appears but I can't hear her voice. I can't hear what she's saying. Now she's gone and I'm left with those voices again. I give in, moving deeper within the tunnel. The voices stop.  
  
Time passes. I'm alone in the darkness. I don't mind it though. I prefer the darkness to the voices. Like everything else, this doesn't last. At some point, I must have been moved again. I hear more voices. I try to move away...to move back into my tunnel but this time I can't. The darkness is gone, replaced by light. For the first time I feel pain. I feel someone touching me again only this time it lasts longer than before. Someone's holding onto me. It's not like this person is restraining me in some way, just holding on. What follows is a voice...a female voice. She's talking to me only I can't understand her. As hard as I try, I can't understand her...I can't make out what she's trying to say. Before long, she disappears and I'm alone again.  
  
I wait and finally she returns. I try to relax...to listen to her...to hear what she's saying. I can't explain but it's this one voice.....this one female voice that's different than the others. The others are talking over me...around me...about me but not to me. But her voice....she's talking to me. I just can't understand what she's saying.  
  
She leaves again and returns. This time it's different. I can understand her. Her voice isn't clear yet but it's not as muffled as it was before. She's talking about how some people were hurt, only I don't know who she's talking about. I feel her touching me. I mean I think it's her. I hear her voice and I feel someone touching my hand. I just assume it's the same person. For the first time, I don't feel alone. I feel as if someone knows I'm here. I just wish I could talk to her. That I could tell her I don't understand who she's talking about. She sounds relieved to some respect that these people, whoever they are, are going to be okay. The darkness continues to lift and I hear her more clearly. I blink my eyes. She must have seen me 'cause her voice just changed. She moves closer, speaking to me louder yet slower. She repeats herself; trying to get me to open my eyes. I try but it hurts. My eyes are dry and it's painful as I try to open them. I'm following her voice, trying over and over to open my eyes....to put a face to her voice.  
  
I'm finally able to keep them open...I can see her now. She's happy...I see her smile. She's still talking to me only now she's talking to me about being awake. She studies my response sensing my confusion. I thought I was awake. She doesn't understand and I can't explain due to the tube in my throat. The smile disappears, replaced by a sadness that I don't understand. She wanted me to open my eyes and I fought to do that. So why is she sad now? I don't get an answer as other voices enter the room. This time the voices have faces. This time some of them are talking to me. They also seem to be glad that my eyes are open but instead of smiling one of them shines a light in my eyes. I feel pressure on my arm as they take my blood pressure. Others check my body poking around my arm and stomach. They ask me questions...questions that don't need answers but rather questions about my movements. I try my best to follow them; moving my fingers, my toes, and following the light they keep shining in my eyes. My frustration mounts making it difficult for me to breath. I'm agitated and that's not helping me as I begin fighting the tube in my throat. I start to think that being alone wasn't so bad after all.  
  
This pattern continues for what probably seems longer than it really is. I'm getting tired...tired of all of this and just plain tired. One thought stands out in my mind...why was she sad? She seemed happy to see me. I can't help but wonder what I did to make her so sad.  
  
Before she left she said something to me. She said "I'll see you later." Later when I'm alone again, I have to wonder if she really meant that. I lay awake trying to remember things...like my name and what happened to me. The doctors explained that I'd been shot several times. I know my arm is bandaged but they told me that it's not serious. Another bullet hit me in the stomach. They had to repair my lung but it's not serious either. It should heal just fine. The tube in my throat, they explained, is to help me breathe...so my body can focus on healing. The other bullet hit me just above my ear. There was some damage to this area which is why I can't remember certain things. I notice that they seem happy that I can move around...that I can follow their commands. I noticed that they didn't tell me that my trouble remembering isn't serious so I have to wonder. At some point, my body gives in and I fall asleep.  
  
Later I wake up to another female voice. This time it's a different person but she smiles at me. She explains to me that her name is Mary and that she doesn't normally work in this area but for me, she made an exception. She smiles when she says this so I guess she knows who I am or who I was. She continues talking to me, telling me about what's happened to me since I got here. Her voice is calming. I try to relax and focus on what she's saying to me.  
  
She's joined by someone who claims to be a doctor. I have no way of knowing for sure and even if I could, I'm in no position to argue. I go along with everything they ask me to do hoping that it will lead to getting this tube out of my throat so that I can talk...so I can get some answers to some of my own questions.  
  
I'm rewarded later when the tube is finally removed. My reward is no consolation as it's followed by more questions...their questions. I'm not very good at giving them answers. I don't know my name. I don't know what happened other than I was shot and they already know that since they explained it to me earlier. I don't know much other than what I've been told. It seems odd to me that they're happy when I'm able to tell them things they already know. I still have questions of my own but no one seems to care. No one cares what I want or what I need. No one until that nurse returns....the one who told me her name is Mary.  
  
She talks to me for awhile, asking if I'm in much pain...if I'm having trouble breathing...stuff like that. I am in pain but it's not too bad. Besides more pain medication will only make me sleepy and I don't want to sleep right now. My throat is still a little sore but she explains to me that the pain will subside now that the tube has been removed. It's not so sore that it keeps me from asking questions beginning with who am I?  
  
She tells me my name only I frown a little. It's not that I don't like the name; it's just that it's kinda long and I don't get it the first time. She repeats it again, slower this time...allowing me to say it with her. She smiles again as she tells me that most people just call me Bosco. I return the smile. Bosco is short...I can handle that.  
  
She leaves for a little while but returns. This time she's dressed a little different. I learn that she's off work now so we can talk for a while if I have more questions. Our discussion continues and I learn that she's known me for about ten years or so. She's not sure when we first met but ten years is a guess. She also says she didn't know me very well...other than what she saw of me when I was here while working. Working is my next question. She tells me I was a police officer. I guess this shouldn't surprise me. I've been seeing a lot of men and women wearing badges. I thought maybe it was because I'd been shot and they wanted to talk to me about who did this.  
  
She pulls up a chair, taking a seat after she sets her stuff aside. She explains the somewhat complex story of what happened the day I was shot. It's the first time I've heard the whole story and it's also the first I've heard that others were shot as well and that some of them didn't make it. She tells me some names and I suppose if I remembered them, it'd have an effect on me....at least more than just learning people died. From what she understands, the persons involved in this shooting are in custody or were killed in an explosion.  
  
I have a million more questions but I have no idea where to begin. The 'who am I' question is still a mystery to me. I know my name now and I know I was a police officer but beyond that, who I am is nothing more than a blank page. Mary explains that as much as she'd like to help me, she really didn't know me very well. I scan through the list of questions that's in my mind, trying to come up with something she can help me with. She knows I was a police officer so I work on that aspect.  
  
Twelve years...that's not something she knew off hand but she explains that from what she heard I'd been a police officer for twelve years. To me it sounds like a long time but then that leads to another question. I have no idea how old I am.  
  
Again she bases what she's about to tell me on what she's heard and from what she's read on my hospital chart. On my last birthday I turned 34. She smiles when I pause then comment on how I was twenty-two when I became a cop. By the time Mary leaves, I know my name, age, date of birth, that I was a police officer for twelve years, I'm not married and I don't have any kids. It's not much but it's a start.  
  
It seems like longer but is actually only a few days later I find myself in a private room. For the most part, I'm doing okay but they wanted to be able to monitor me and the best way to do that was in ICU. Possible complications following the type of surgery I had...that's what they tell me anyway. While in ICU, the doctors continue to run tests and question me about stuff I have no idea about. Mary has been in to visit several times. My list of visitors has been long although I don't know much about any of them. Mostly people I worked with who understandably are nervous around me. I still have a ton of questions but I've gotten few answers. The answers I get make me out to be some kind of a saint. Somehow, I can't explain why but, I know this isn't true. Mostly I think because everyone seems to avoid the details. All I keep hearing is the same stuff Mary told me...the kind of stuff anyone who can read my chart could tell me. I do hear some stories but I'm left feeling as if I'm only getting one side of the story. I'm not sure what to believe. I mention this to Mary the next time I see her. She doesn't offer me much except a piece of advice.  
  
"The best advice I can offer you is to listen. As difficult as it must be for you, try not to make any decisions on what you're hearing. For now, listen to what you're being told. Listen for patterns...for repetitive information...then trust your own instincts."  
  
I guess my next question isn't a surprise. It was just a matter of time.  
  
"Do I have any family?"  
  
She smiles before answering. "I guess that depends on what you call family."  
  
I was about to ask another question when I see a familiar face. Not so much that it's someone I remember unless you count the face of the first person I saw when I woke up as a memory.  
  
Mary notices her too. She's made it to my doorway but not much further. I can see by her expression that the sadness is still there.  
  
"I should get going," Mary says, glancing at her watch. She touches the arm of my visitor on her way out. As she reaches the door, she glances from me to her before reminding me to remember what she said. I take that as being the part about trusting my instincts.  
  
My focus moves from the door to the person who now stands ten feet from my bed. I can tell she's nervous. I'm getting pretty good at recognizing when people are nervous.  
  
"You wanna sit down?" I ask.  
  
She doesn't reply but nods her head as she pulls the chair back a few feet, then taking a seat.  
  
"So how are you feeling?" she asks. I've heard this question enough to know a good answer.  
  
"Good I guess. I mean I'd like to think I've been better but then you'd know that better than me."  
  
She grins but only for an instant. I offer her my hand.  
  
"I'm Bosco." I reply. She smiles again taking my hand as I finally learn her name.  
  
"I'm Faith."  
  
Our conversation is barely that. I don't have much to offer in the way of discussion so I'm forced to stick to a few subjects.  
  
"We were partners?" It sounded like a question but it was one of the few things I knew for sure.  
  
"Yeah...yeah we were..."  
  
"So, is that where we met...on the job?"  
  
"Actually, no...we actually met at the academy." She says this with a hint of a laugh.  
  
"So we've been friends since we were at the academy?"  
  
"Not exactly," she replies. I can tell she's trying to find a nice way to say what's on her mind.  
  
"So we weren't friends back at the academy or we haven't been friends since then?"  
  
"A little of both maybe," she offers, still trying to figure how to say this. "We didn't exactly hit it off at first...but by the time we graduated, I'd say we were friends."  
  
"So you must know me pretty well?"  
  
"Yeah...I guess you could say that."  
  
"Before you came in, I was talking to Mary...I asked her about my family...if I have one. I mean I do right 'cause everybody has a family. She said it depends on what you call a family. You know what she meant by that don't you?"  
  
She fidgets for a minute. She knows the answer to my question. Once again she's trying to figure out how to tell me. Her hesitance reminds me of my feeling that I'm only getting half the story.  
  
"It's complicated....your family I mean."  
  
"From where I stand, everything's complicated."  
  
"I guess it would be," she says before taking a deep breath. "You grew up in Brooklyn. Your parents divorced when you were ten I think. It was around that time anyway. You and your dad were never very close. You were pretty protective of your mom though....and your little brother."  
  
"Were? You said 'were'."  
  
"Yeah...your mom died a little while back....she'd been hit by a car."  
  
"What was her name?"  
  
"Rose...actually it was Angela Rose but everybody called her Rose."  
  
"And my little brother...he's dead too?"  
  
"Yeah...Michael...everybody called him Mikey. He...he...Mikey was killed earlier this year."  
  
"Killed? My little brother was killed? What do you mean when you say he was killed?"  
  
"Well the short story version of it is that he got mixed up with some guys who were dealing in drugs. He got arrested and he worked out a deal where he could help the police. He was found later...he'd been killed."  
  
"So he was in jail when he got killed?"  
  
"No, he'd gotten off on some technicalities. He was out of jail when they killed him."  
  
I sat in silence for a while, trying to process everything Faith had told me. I rested my head in the palms of my hands, grasping at anything. My mother had died after being hit by a car and my brother had been killed...Angela Rose...Michael...Mikey. How could I not remember my own family...my own mother...my brother? They'd died horrible deaths and I couldn't even remember their names. I didn't even know that I had a brother and now I learn that he's dead. I was staring at the wall when I asked my next question.  
  
"And my father?"  
  
"Your father's name is Anthony. I don't know much about him. I only ever met him a couple times. The two of you didn't get along very well. Mikey was closer to him...you were closer to your mother."  
  
"We didn't get along very well...so that's why he hasn't been here...why you're telling me about my family instead of him?"  
  
Faith didn't respond to my last comment. I guess I didn't expect her to. Even if she did, what could she say? My father's actions pretty much spoke for themselves.  
  
"I'm kinda tired," I said, even though I wasn't. I just didn't know what else to say. Besides that sadness was on her face again. 


	6. Visions of a life once lived 6

I've been doing a lot of talkin' lately. Talkin' to doctors and nurses. I've tried to learn everything I can about Bosco's condition. What I'm really trying to figure out is when he'll get his memory back. .if he ever gets it back. I have my doubts but I think that's just a side of me that trying not to get my hopes up...you know, just in case.  
  
What I've learned is complex and confusing. It doesn't make any sense that he can remember things like colors. They put three colors in front of him and he knows which one is red...which one is blue...and which one is green. But, he doesn't know that his car is blue. He knows what a police officer does...sort of...he just doesn't remember being a police officer.  
  
I visit him as much as I can. A lot of people do including some of the neighbors from where his mom lived. A lot of them have lived there for what seems like forever. Some of the people from the 55th visit him too. Sully and Ty see him almost every day. I've noticed that it's always the two of them. Until yesterday that is. Ty visits him sometimes by himself but I know that Sully never has. I'd question him about it but I think he'd make up some sort of story. Truth is, I think he really misses old Bosco...the guy who'd given him a hard time for years...has been a thorn in his side...and the same guy who went out of his way to help Sully when he was drinking too much. I doubt he'd admit it but I really do think he misses Bosco. It's not just Bosco who's changed. I haven't seen Sully with a Krispy Kreme since the shooting. Not that he's been able to work 'cause he's still recovering as well but I overheard Ty offering to bring him some and he turned him down. Something just changes in Sully whenever Bosco's name comes up.  
  
I think a lot of people are having trouble with this. I include Lieu in that as well as Stick. I don't think Stick has been to Mercy since the day Bosco got shot. I can understand that I guess. At least he asks about him whenever I go to work. The last few days I've been riding with Ty. We talk about Bosco sometimes but then other times we ride in silence for what seems like hours.  
  
There's been some discussion about Bosco being released soon...like in the next couple days. The discussion amounts to the fact that there are a lot of questions. Questions about where he'll live. I guess they're concerned with how well he'll do on his own. His memory is so sporadic that the doctors and nurses are trying to piece together what he remembers and what he doesn't. For instance, what if he leaves wherever he's living...will he remember how to get back home or even where home is? Does he remember how to cook for himself? The whole issue of driving is a big question. I did show him a picture of his car I got from his apartment. I was amazed at how many pictures he has of that car. At least he knows what his car looks like...that it's blue...should he be allowed to drive.  
  
Then there's the subject of money. From what I understand, he is clear on what a dollar is versus a ten dollar bill. He can understand that if you spend $5.47 and you have a ten dollar bill, you get $4.53 back. He's a little unclear when it comes to prices though. To go for breakfast at the corner diner, he could easily be charged twenty or thirty bucks for breakfast and that's assuming he has a normal breakfast like bacon and eggs with toast and coffee.  
  
The issue of his job is a big question too. Physically he'll be able to do the job of a police officer. His arm is healing fine and the gunshot to his lung area is healing too. He'd be able to do the job; he just can't remember what it is he's supposed to do. So, the question is, should he have to re-attend the academy as if he'd never been a cop. Technically he wasn't on duty at the time of the shooting but then after that car crashed through the funeral home, he did assume the role of an on-duty cop by securing the situation...preventing that guy from detonating a bomb. One could argue that he was injured in the line of duty while it could also be argued the other way around. So far, the department has treated it as if he were injured in the line of duty...the on-duty 24/7 theory. The big question is does he even want to be a cop?  
  
So many questions, so few answers...  
  
The few times I've visited him since I told him about his family, he's avoided the topic. Mary's noticed a change in him too but nothing compares to the change in him I saw the next time I visited him in the hospital.  
  
When I got there, he was out of bed, standing in front of a window. It was the first time I'd actually seen him out of bed. I'd heard that he'd been getting up and walking around, I'd just never been there when he had. So, it was a nice surprise to see him standing. I guess this must be something like when he saw me in that diner...the night we talked about me coming back to work.  
  
Anyway, I was happy to see him up but that happiness soon disappeared. I'd spoke with Mary earlier and she'd told me that he wasn't in a good mood. I had no idea just how bad a mood he was in.  
  
He turns around and I see a cross between anger and pain in his eyes. As I look deeper, I see what's there...pain. My first thought is that he remembers something but it's not so much about remembering but more about what he's feeling.  
  
"Bosco?"  
  
"The truth...I wanna hear the truth."  
  
"Okay," I reply, thinking it might be best if I listen rather than defend myself. It's obvious from the look on his face and the way he demands the truth.  
  
"This is how it's going to go," he continues, not allowing me to say a word. "I have questions...I want answers. Not the answers I've been getting cause I think there's more to it than what I've been told and I think you know exactly what I mean."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Fine? So is that a yes or a no 'cause if you aren't going to tell me the truth, then you can leave now. But, what I understand is that you were my best friend so I'm hoping you'll be honest with me."  
  
I didn't say a word, but I pulled up a chair and took a seat. I figured that was my answer.  
  
"My brother...Mikey...he died cause of me..."  
  
I looked at him...for a second I thought he might have remembered something. But then, his earlier thoughts entered my brain. 'I wanna hear the truth.'  
  
"And my mother...Angela Rose....she died cause of me too..."  
  
I slumped back into the chair, thinking maybe it was best to let him have his say and then somehow...somehow try to explain all of this to him.  
  
"And you...you almost died because of me. And you're married or at least you were until I screw that up too."  
  
"That's not your fault Bosco."  
  
"It's not my fault? It's not my fault you got shot last year? I created a mess of my own life and then dragged you into it so that you could get shot? How is that not my fault?"  
  
"Bosco, you had no idea what was going to happen in that hotel room. Had you had any idea that there would be shooting, you wouldn't have involved me. And you didn't drag me into that. I went on my own."  
  
"But you got shot though right? And you were paralyzed for a while...and then you went back to work and now your husband is gone?"  
  
"My husband...soon to be ex-husband is an alcoholic ass who slept with another woman while I was paralyzed. Had he not left, I would have kicked his ass to the curb."  
  
"I didn't help my brother...he got killed...butchered and left in a trash can all 'cause I didn't help him. And my mother, she got hit by a car because of me...cause someone wanted me dead?"  
  
"He wanted us all dead Bosco, not just you. He wanted everyone involved in the death of his son to be dead."  
  
"So then I went to work only to screw up big with some Sgt somebody and then almost got you killed and my mother and brother were killed because of some guy's son got killed? It's no wonder my father isn't around...that he doesn't want anything to do with me...who could blame him?"  
  
"Your father is an ass and the fact that he's not around is proof of that."  
  
"How can you say that after everything I did?"  
  
"Because I know you. Unfortunately I know you a lot better than your father which isn't how it should be. Now you wanna tell me who's been filling your head with all this?"  
  
"Filling my head? With what? The truth?"  
  
"Okay so some of it was true...Mikey did die in a horrific way and yes your mother did get hit by a car but that was like I said. This guy who was behind it hurt a lot of people. He'd destroyed lives long before you or me crossed paths with him. Narcotics had been trying to catch up to him before his son tried to run for it."  
  
"What happened with his son?"  
  
"We found out where he hung around and we'd gone there to try to find him. He got out the back door but we were able to follow him. We were following him when he got close to a school crossing. He got cut off and swerved, sliding under a semi. He was decapitated."  
  
"So he had Mikey killed the same way....so Mikey dying was my fault."  
  
"Bosco, this guy Mann was involved in drugs. Some of the names Mikey gave the police were tied in with him. Mikey was trying to do the right thing. Mann's people got wind of it and he was killed for that."  
  
"You honestly believe that?"  
  
"Yeah, I do. Bosco, you tried to talk to Mikey...several times. He warned him that he was going to have a price on his head if he did what he was going to do. He didn't want to go to jail again. He'd done that before and he wanted to find a way out of it. Turning into a witness for the state was what he decided."  
  
"Again? You said he didn't want to go to jail again. So this wasn't the first time?"  
  
"No, he'd been arrested for drugs before. That time before, it was you and me who brought him in."  
  
"I arrested my own brother?"  
  
"Yeah, we arrested him. I knew it wasn't such a great idea and your ma, she wasn't too happy with it either but truth is, what he did was wrong...dealing in drugs. What Mikey did was wrong and you thought that he didn't deserve any breaks just 'cause he was your brother. You were a good cop Bosco."  
  
"That's not what I hear."  
  
"I don't understand," I replied, trying to figure out what would give Bosco that idea. "Where did you hear this? Who told you all this?"  
  
"I had a visitor today."  
  
"A visitor? Who?"  
  
"He said his name was Fred."  
  
"Fred? Fred came to see you? My soon to be asshole ex-husband Fred?"  
  
He didn't reply but the look on his face was that of confusion.  
  
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry Bosco," I replied, trying to find a way to undo some of my obvious one-sided feelings. "It's just that you and Fred....these last couple years, you've been at odds and that bothered me cause you were both important in my life. As far as my marriage is concerned, the biggest problem was my being a cop period. Being a cop is dangerous work. I wont fault him that but it's always been dangerous. Besides, do you have any idea why I went to the police academy in the first place? Fred probably didn't tell you that but I will. I went to the academy because I needed a job...not just any job but one that would allow me to take care of my family without my husband. Fred was and will always be an alcoholic. I grew up in an alcoholic home and I didn't want my kids to grow up the same way I did."  
  
"Your kids? You have two?"  
  
"Yeah I have two...Emily's going to be sixteen pretty soon and Charlie is twelve."  
  
"Emily...Charlie?"  
  
"Yeah...they used to call you Uncle B...Charlie still does. I think Emily's outgrown the Uncle stuff."  
  
"So all this...everything you've told me...is it the truth...or are you still leaving things out?"  
  
"Bosco...about all that. I know I wasn't completely honest with you before. I wanted to tell you everything about your past but you'd just had surgery...major surgery. You were lucky to be alive. I didn't want to drop too much on you so soon after surgery."  
  
He nodded his head, still not looking me in the eye.  
  
"Bosco...I promise you," I started to say before pausing.  
  
"What?" Bosco interrupted after I hadn't continued for a moment. "You started to say something."  
  
"It's just that what happened between us as friends and as partners...we weren't honest with one another. You think I would've learned?"  
  
"Twelve years is a long time," Bosco said. "But we got past all that right? I mean from what I understand, we were partners again. That's what Fred said...that you wanted to partner up with me again. He said that was the last straw."  
  
"Well, part of that is true. I did insist on being your partner again but that was because we had worked together for so long. I trusted you. I don't know how much you understand about our job but your partner can be the difference between life and death. The day you were shot...when all the shooting started...you pushed me to the ground. That's how you ended up getting shot. You were trying to protect me."  
  
"So the day I got shot...I understand that several people were killed including one who was in that room with us. According to Fred, the fact that she didn't make it was a blessing of some sort? I didn't understand what he was talking about but I think he really hated her...that you didn't like her either?"  
  
"He was talking about Sgt Cruz. No, she wasn't my favorite person. She was probably right up there on my life of my least favorite people. Beyond that, I think that discussion will have to wait for another day. I gotta get to work. I promise you though, next time, we'll talk about this Sgt. Cruz."  
  
I left the hospital that afternoon with mixed emotions. I was pissed off at Fred for what he'd told Bosco. I know Bosco deserved to know the truth about his life, but I really didn't want to dump all of it in his lap so soon. He was going through enough without all the added burden of feeling guilty which is exactly what Fred had made it out to be. As usual, Bosco was the bad guy in all of this and Fred went riding off on his high horse, acting as if his own actions were deserving of sainthood. The truth is, finding God had become a joke. Fred may have found God but he'd lost him just as quick as he'd found him. I'm not a church-going Christian. I can't think of the last time I was in a church but I seriously think God saw Fred's adultery role as the big, fat sin that it was.  
  
But, Fred was out of my life at least as much as I could control for the time being. As for Bosco, he was still at a loss as far as his past goes. But, I knew once he got out of the hospital, I was going to do everything I could to help him remember his life. Fifteen years with Fred had been nothing more than a waste of my time. The twelve years with Bosco were somewhat of a blank slate but that was something that I could change...one day at a time. 


	7. Visions of a life once lived 7

Bosco was released two days later. It was decided that he'd be staying at his mom's home. I guess it made sense. He'd have neighbors close by just in case he needed something. The homes on either side had been two of Rose's closest friends. One she'd known for twenty years and the other eighteen years which meant that both of them had known Bosco while he was still living at home. That gave me some sense of comfort. In addition to the comfort factor was the financial factor.  
  
While in the hospital, the attorney who'd prepared Rose's will stopped by. Rose had left everything to her two sons, to be divided equally. With Mikey's death, it all went to Bosco. Rose had been smart enough to refinance when the rates dropped. By doing so she'd been able to pay off the mortgage on her home. It didn't hurt that her attorney had also been the neighbor she'd known for twenty years. I remembered some of the neighbors from Rose and Mikey's funeral. The attorney and his wife had been two of many neighbors to speak.  
  
So, Rose's home was now Bosco's. In discussing where he would live, it made sense that he should either rent his mother's home or live there himself. Either one had its benefits but if he chose to rent it out, he'd have landlord headaches to deal with. For the time being, he was going to move into his mom's place. The added support of many neighbors was an important part of the decision. For the time being, he wasn't driving so I agreed to help out as much as possible which meant I was going to be spending a lot of time with him as well as his neighbors.  
  
The Fantenelli family lived next door. I soon discovered that Mrs. Fantenelli's children were grown and living in other states. They were all successful in their chosen careers. I had many discussions with Mrs. Fantenelli on her porch. I had my doubts whether or not Bosco was actually doing any cooking for himself. Mrs. Fantenelli left me with the impression that his charming neighbor had some sort of prearranged pact with Rose that that the two of them would always look after each other's families. I'm sure old Bosco knew of this and I could only imagine how many times he'd tried to convince Rose that he could take care of himself.  
  
One afternoon, Mr. Fantenelli joined us and one of my beliefs was confirmed. Mrs. Fantenelli loved to cook. His had this funny smile as he shook his head telling me how his wife was delighted to have Bosco living next door. Enough said. A refrigerator full of leftovers confirmed it. Both husband and wife had adored Bosco while he was growing up. He'd been best friends with one of their sons. Mr. Fantenelli joked about how his wife's hopes had been dashed when their daughter married a guy she met in college. The whole idea of Bosco and their daughter made me wonder just what this she looked like.  
  
As much as I loved the childhood stories the Fantenellis and other neighbors shared, Bosco simply couldn't get enough of them. Together they scoured photo album after photo album sharing memories. The Bosco I knew was somewhat of a loner...somewhat anyway. I mean it wasn't that he sat at home night after night but I rarely heard about his friends. In twelve years, I'd heard a long list of female names and the detailed accounts of their time spent with Bosco. But it was a bit odd that I didn't remember him to ever mention friends either present or childhood.  
  
When he wasn't getting his fill of childhood stories, Bosco was making some decisions of his own. He didn't care much for some of the furniture at his ma's place. Even though Bosco wasn't being the Bosco I knew, he was showing signs that he was taking control of his life. He shocked me by having moved stuff around including numerous pieces that had found their way elsewhere.  
  
Part of the shock had been the furniture or the lack of while the other part was seeing him for the first time without his head bandaged. The day before I'd dropped him off for a doctor appointment. As usual they were running behind so Ty had agreed to give him a ride home since he was off.  
  
I was a little surprised at the length of his hair. I'd expected it to be stubby short but it was actually longer than what I'd remembered from his days in Anti-Crime which wasn't saying much really. Standing there it was hard to believe that a month had already passed since he'd been shot.  
  
"So what'd the doctor say yesterday?" I inquired.  
  
"Same thing he always says...everything's healing fine. My arm's is doing well...same for my chest...the lung. He still wants me to take it easy with my arm though...no heavy lifting. As for my head, it's healing nicely."  
  
"No heavy lifting?" I said laughing while glancing around the room. "So the furniture that was in here that's now gone must've walked on its own?"  
  
"Actually it was more like it slid on its own." He said this while looking like he'd just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
"Do I wanna hear this?" I could only imagine what had happened earlier in the day as the furniture magically disappeared.  
  
"It's no big deal...I mean if you turn it over on its side; most of it slides pretty well."  
  
"Most of it?"  
  
"Well one or two pieces might have needed a little encouragement."  
  
"Encouragement? O - kay....so where do you plan to sit now that the furniture has been encouraged to go elsewhere?" I put the emphasis on 'encouraged'.  
  
"I'm glad you asked 'cause you see mom's attorney dropped me off a check today and I need to put it in the bank. After that if you have some time, I need to go look for some new furniture."  
  
"New furniture...just how much new furniture are we talking about? How many rooms of furniture did you encourage to go elsewhere today?"  
  
"Well, I guess you can see that this room needs new furniture and the bedroom needs new furniture as well as that table that was in the room by the kitchen..."  
  
"Was as in that's gone too?"  
  
"It had a little encouragement."  
  
"And the bedroom...tell me you didn't do anything to the bedroom furniture?"  
  
"Well not yet. You see I was watching TV last night and I saw a commercial where it said they haul away your old bed when you buy a new one."  
  
"Too bad they didn't show any living room furniture in that commercial..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," I said shrugging it off. He'd obvious missed my sad attempt at humor. "As for shopping for new furniture...what exactly did you have in mind?"  
  
"I'm not sure. That's why I need to go look."  
  
"Great."  
  
I couldn't imagine any way I'd rather spend my day off than shopping for new furniture with Bosco who incidentally had no idea whatsoever what kind of furniture he wanted. I suppose if I'd been smart, I would have let him believe that I had to work that day. As it was, I let it slip that I had the day off.  
  
The check from the attorney was actually two checks. Turned out for some reason Rose had not only insured her own life but she'd kept a small policy on Mikey as well. It was only worth $25,000 but it would certainly be enough to pay for funeral expenses for Rose and Mikey. The other check was substantially larger...$125,000. That answered one question: where was he going to get the money to pay for new furniture?  
  
So we went shopping for furniture. Whoever thought shopping for anything with Bosco would be an enjoyable experience? It turned out to be the most fun I'd had in a very long time. For one thing Bosco shopping wasn't just shopping. It was an event...or several events.  
  
The first place we went, one guy latched onto us, trailing us everywhere we went explaining all the fine qualities of whatever we were looking at. After hearing him go on and on about the benefits of this and that about five or six times, Bosco looked him straight in the eye and questioned him as to didn't he have any work to do?  
  
The salesman was pretty shocked and I managed to sustain my laughter for a while before having to walk the other way. Bosco caught up to me, leaving the stunned salesman behind. He really had no idea this guy had been doing his job until I explained it to him. Then he was the stunned one questioning why people actually get paid to irritate other people. What could I say...he did have a point there. With nothing else to add I explained that it's a crazy world we live in.  
  
So off to another store we went. This time it was a female salesperson who trailed us around the store. With her in heels and Bosco in tennis shoes, the race was on. He actually got to look around without her 'irritating' him since she wasn't able to keep up with him.  
  
The third store had a salesperson who must have spent the night before studying. He told us of all these wonderful opportunities there were for us to buy now and pay later. I inquired about how much it would cost if we chose to pay later. The explanation made no sense to Bosco who listened intently as we discovered how much more it could cost to pay later. He questioned why the same furniture cost so much more if we paid for it in six months. The end result was the two of us heading for store number four after Bosco told the salesman that maybe we'd come back in six months just to find out about the prices.  
  
It was store number four where things got interesting. That's when the charming salesman offered his hand, introducing himself. By charming I should say he was over the top. He went on to ask how he could be of assistance and referred to us as a happy couple.  
  
Bosco gave me this look before clearly asking me if he knew this guy. The salesman – Andrew – looked confused. I ignored that explaining that 'no' we didn't know him. That wasn't enough for Bosco who then inquired about the happy couple. This time Andrew the salesman got a perplexed look on his face almost to the point of avoiding us all together for fear that we weren't a happy couple and that we were about to erupt into some full-blown argument over plaids versus stripes. I had to laugh more at the reaction than Bosco's comment. I gave Bosco a shove before telling our new friend Andrew that we were going to look around. Bosco stopped an aisle over as I continued to giggle. At that point he joined me in laughing having realized the guy thought we were together as more than just friends.  
  
Store number five would have to wait...I needed to eat. Lunch should have been easy but I was starting to see that nothing with Bosco was easy. He was like having a little kid around...that curious nature as they discover the world around them. I guess it made sense. For the last month or so he'd spent most of his time either in the hospital or returning there for checkups. Beyond that he hadn't ventured much further than the front porch of his neighbor's house.  
  
For lunch he sank his teeth into a greasy burger with a side order of fries. He didn't miss the fact that I was watching him...or rather I was eyeing his fries.  
  
"You want a French fry?"  
  
His question made me giggle.  
  
"Is there something about French fries that's funny that I don't know about?"  
  
"Not really...I mean it's not the fries itself that are funny, just something you did once."  
  
"So what did I do once?"  
  
I explained as best I could the incident with him eating all the fries and then offering me the cold ones in the bottom of the bag...the whole idea that he thought I was on a diet yet there I was eating a cheeseburger...his offer to go buy some more fries. My description was somewhat lost on him or else I didn't explain it quite right.  
  
"So we argued about French fries?"  
  
"For the most part, we argued about stupid stuff like that. I'm sure to this day there were people at the precinct who after meeting us for the first time thought we were married...with the stupid stuff we got into arguments about."  
  
"Except for that last year or so?"  
  
"No, that last year or so we argued a lot more and about other stuff."  
  
"Like Cruz and me, working with her in anti-crime, my involvement with her when we were off duty, the way she did things, the way she treated people..."  
  
"Yeah, stuff like that." It'd been a week or so since I'd told him about Cruz.  
  
"Maybe it's a good thing I don't remember?"  
  
I was somewhat surprised by his comment. My face must've showed it.  
  
"So it doesn't bother you that you don't remember certain stuff?"  
  
"Why should it...I mean it sounds to me as if she's not worth remembering. Besides she's dead...end of story right?"  
  
"If only everything in life were that easy Bosco." I said this while laughing. Sometimes Bosco's perspective on things was a lot clearer than the rest of us. I mean he was right about one thing. Cruz was out of our lives. The way he put it though...I had to laugh.  
  
We approached store number five on a full stomach and after a short break. This in itself should have been good and in a sense it was. On the other hand, Bosco was enjoying his little shopping excursion.  
  
It all began when another salesman asked us what we were looking for. Bosco was quick to reply that we needed to find a bed. It was the way he put it that sent me into a fit of laughter earning me a look from Bosco. The salesman directed us to an area of the store with bedroom furniture and abruptly left to take a phone call. I continued giggling as we strolled through the many choices, pushing Bosco around when he got sidetracked by something insignificant. He had this look on his face that spelled trouble so whenever a salesperson would approach us, I'd take him by the arm and head into another direction.  
  
At one point, he decided that maybe we should give up on the bed for now and focus on something for another room. Mission accomplished when it took him all of eight and a half minutes to find a dining room table and chairs that he liked. I continued shopping while a salesperson wrote up the order. It was about five minutes later that I discovered an incredibly comfortable chaise. I was actually relaxing there when I overheard a salesperson ask someone if he was looking for something special to which I clearly heard Bosco rely 'yeah a woman.'  
  
He'd obviously overheard me laughing and followed up with a 'that's her'. I can only imagine the look on the stuffy sounding salesman's face. I was still in my comfy chaise when Bosco found me.  
  
"You should try this out...it's really comfortable." It was merely a suggestion but Bosco took me at my word plopping down beside me.  
  
"It's big enough for two people too."  
  
I scooted over a little, making room for him.  
  
"What do you think of this other furniture?" he continued, referring to the sofa, loveseat, and chair with ottoman.  
  
"What do you think?" I inquired, tossing the question back at him.  
  
"It's kinda nice. If it's as comfortable as thing, I'll take it."  
  
All this time we'd spent actually looking at furniture. I guess we should have just tried them out one at a time.  
  
"I don't think you have room for all of it but you could buy a few pieces."  
  
We took turns trying out the other pieces while figuring out what could go where in his living room. The decision finally made, we found yet another salesperson to write up this order. The furniture would be delivered the following afternoon if they actually delivered it when they said they would.  
  
He still needed a new bed but that would have to wait for another day. Shopping with Bosco had definitely been quite an adventure. At times he'd reminded me of Bosco of old. His sense of humor though was a little more over the top than what I remembered. Not that this was a bad thing. Either way, I had a great time with him. Maybe he was right. Maybe the fact that he didn't remember wasn't such a bad thing. It allowed us to start fresh without all the baggage that had hounded us for the past year or so. I wasn't sure what the future held for us. A lot of that depended on his memory and if and when that returned. I was sure of our immediate future though. It included one more chapter in 'Bosco's adventures of furniture shopping'. 


	8. Visions of a life once lived 8

It was three weeks before we made our second attempt at furniture shopping. Bosco had been somewhat patient. I mean he didn't call me every day but whenever I happened to call he'd mention it.  
  
It wasn't that I didn't want to go shopping with him. I was working a lot of overtime which left me little time for all the stuff I needed to get done. Besides I did need some time to recover from my last shopping trip with Bosco.  
  
I arrived as his ma's place to find him sitting on the front porch. I was used to old Bosco rushing into the locker room three minutes before roll call. His new sense of punctuality was going to take some getting used to.  
  
So, three weeks later, we set out, avoiding all the stores we'd visited before. Unlike last time, I'd come prepared. I had a lit of stores that I knew or had heard handled a lot of bedroom furniture. We arrived at the first store on my list. Upon entering, we were immediately greeted by not one but two salespeople. Bosco glanced at me before holding up one hand.  
  
"We'd like to look around okay?"  
  
That said he turned his attention to finding a bed. One sales an continued talking as if neither of us had said a word. Bosco took a few steps before turning around to find a salesman right in front of him.  
  
"Let me rephrase that," he said; one hand out again. "We're going to look around...by ourselves. If we have any questions, we'll ask a salesperson...one of those other salespeople who aren't following us around the store."  
  
Apparently the salesman still wasn't getting the picture. Again Bosco turned towards him.  
  
"Do you speak English?"  
  
"There is no need for such tone sir," the stuffy salesman replied.  
  
"And there is no 'need' for you to continue to follow us around the store. What do you think I'm going to do, slip a couch under my shirt and try to walk out?"  
  
I felt compelled to add in my own two cents.  
  
"You see I'm a New York City police officer so I assure you, he won't be stealing any sofas, 5-piece dinette sets, not even an ottoman."  
  
"I don't believe we have anything that would interest you."  
  
I took that as an invitation for us to leave. Bosco smiled before adding a comment of his own.  
  
"Well at least we agree on something." That said, he headed for the door.  
  
Upon entering store number two and things went from bad to worse. Another pushy salesperson started in on us with a list of questions. As she paused to take a breath, Bosco had a question of his own.  
  
"Do you have any free furniture," he quipped before turning to continue shopping. I was left to entertain the looks on the faces of two salespeople.  
  
"Brain injury," I replied, getting an even stranger look from the salespeople.  
  
"I don't have a brain injury," Bosco quickly defended himself. "As least not that I remember." That said he ignored all of us and went on shopping. As we soon discovered, the answer to Bosco's question was 'no'.  
  
I'd heard a lot of things about store number three, just not about the prices. Bosco took it all in stride. He looked over at me as I gave him the 'who are they kidding' look. By the time a salesperson approached us, Bosco had an answer.  
  
"Does this price include a new home?"  
  
With two hands on my shoulders, Bosco guided me towards the door.  
  
Store number four was an almost meaning he almost bought something. That was until they started discussing their extended warranties, fabric protections services and delivery costs.  
  
"How much?" Bosco questioned.  
  
"We have a standard cost of $50 per piece."  
  
"Per piece? How many pieces will it be in when it's delivered?" Apparently the salesman missed Bosco's point.  
  
"Well there'd be a charge for the headboard, footboard and the mattress set would be an additional $100 unless you choose a king set, then it'd be $150 more."  
  
"So delivery is more than the cost of the furniture?"  
  
We didn't give them time to answer. This time I had my hands on Bosco's shoulders as we headed for the door.  
  
For lunch we stopped off at a deli since we could eat without having to wait long plus we could sit down.  
  
"I think I should just sleep on the floor or maybe I should move that chaise thing into the bedroom. I fall asleep in it most nights anyway.   
  
"Maybe you should have bought two of them?"  
  
I could see that he was growing frustrated.  
  
"Tell you what...why don't we swing by my apartment and grab some catalogs and stuff I have. I get 'em in the mail all the time. Maybe you'll see something that you like in one of 'em?"  
  
So that's what we did. I had catalogs from all over town. I got them from stores I've never heard of and stores that I'd never step foot in. In all, I probably had a couple dozen or more. Back at Bosco's place, I got my first look at the new living room furniture that we'd shopped for weeks prior. In addition to the new furniture, he'd painted the living room walls and had added a rug. It was a far cry from the living room Rose had but there was one thing he hadn't changed.  
  
"You kept the picture?" I commented. The picture I was referring to was the large one of Rose with her two sons when they were quite young.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder at the photo before commenting.  
  
"I didn't know what to do with it...I mean furniture is one thing but that...I didn't know what to do with it so I just left it alone."  
  
"I know you don't remember it Bosco but there was nothing in this world that was more important to your mom than you and Mikey."  
  
"So you think I should keep it then?"  
  
"I'm in no position to tell you what to do but yeah, I think its perfect right where it is."  
  
"Good."  
  
Now that I'd seen the changes to Bosco's home, I had no idea what kind of bedroom furniture he was looking for. I'm not sure he did either. Based on the living room, you'd think he had a taste for the contemporary but then in the kitchen, he'd chosen a dinette set that was very traditional. The living room also had some traditional touches...none of it planned but it seemed to work. I liked it all. So, the bedroom was a challenge.  
  
I left Bosco with a stack of catalogs and ads while I left for work. Monroe and I had just got back from dinner when Lieu called us back to the station. My first thought was that it was about Bosco.  
  
"Lieu?" I said, standing in the doorway of his office. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Yeah I do. Come on in and have a seat."  
  
"Is this about Bosco?"  
  
He looked across his desk at me with an unusual expression.  
  
"Have you seen him lately? Talked with him?"  
  
"Yeah, this morning before my shift. He's still not driving so I picked him up and we went shopping for furniture."  
  
"Do you know if he's had any contact with his father?"  
  
"Not that I know of. I mean he didn't mention anything about him. Before today I hadn't seen him in several weeks but we talk on the phone. Did something happen?"  
  
"It seems Mr. Anthony Boscorelli is suing the department as well as the city."  
  
"He what? What for?"  
  
"My understanding is for emotional distress over the loss of Rose and Michael Boscorelli. He blames us for their deaths."  
  
"So how does Bosco fit into all this?"  
  
"Apparently he's been named in the suit as well. Anthony blames him for not doing more to prevent Michael from being 'tortured and bludgeoned to death'."  
  
"How does he figure that's our fault? I mean he's the one who hired that sonofa bitch abusive attorney who got Michael off. Had Mikey been in our custody he might have been safe while we searched for Mann."  
  
"I understand. I feel the same way. I'm just curious if Bosco's been served with this information. I'm concerned with his state of mind."  
  
Lieu's phone buzzed. I wasn't sure what it was about but his only reply was that he'd be down in just a minute.  
  
Upon hanging up his phone, I learned that we were about to find out. Bosco was downstairs.  
  
"Before we talk to Bosco, there's just one thing I don't understand. Anthony named Bosco as a defendant in the suit. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you? I mean the same person who's responsible for the deaths of Mikey and Rose is also responsible for the fact that Bosco doesn't remember anything. So, in effect, hasn't he lost Bosco as well? Yet he names him as a defendant?"  
  
"Yeah that seems more than a little strange."  
  
Downstairs Bosco was making new friends of old friends. Ty and Sully must've brought someone in. Sully was nowhere in sight but Ty was talking with Bosco. They were smiling so I was hopeful that Bosco's state of mind was good.  
  
"He doesn't seem upset?" Lieu replied as we made our way down the stairs.  
  
"No, he doesn't but he also has no memory of the asshole his father was when Bosco was a little boy or the fact that his father tried to collect reward money for turning in his own son."  
  
"Which reminds me, we need to discuss that issue. It seems Mr. Boscorelli has a pattern of trying to collect money with regards to his children or at least one of them."  
  
Bosco looked up as Lieu and I approached.  
  
"What?" I said, as he glanced at me.  
  
"Nothing, it's just that this is the first time I've seen you in uniform."  
  
I smiled as Lieu extended his hand.  
  
"How are you?" he asked.  
  
"Good," Bosco replied. "You were at the hospital?"  
  
"Yeah, I stopped in to see you several times...most of them while you were still out of it."  
  
"I remember...not that you were there while I was out of it. I remember seeing you there after I woke up."  
  
"So, I understand you needed to see me?"  
  
"Yeah, some guy came to the door a little while ago. He gave me these."  
  
In Bosco's hand was a copy of the same lawsuit papers Lieu had shown me. We made our way back upstairs to Lieu's office.  
  
"I called my neighbor but he's in meetings...at least that's what they told me on the phone."  
  
"Mr. Fantenelli?" I questioned.  
  
"No, Garrett...Kyle Garrett."  
  
"Kyle Garrett is an attorney," I explained to Lieu. "He was a long-time neighbor of Rose's. He prepared her will and helped her with financial and legal issues."  
  
"Do you have a phone number for Attorney Garrett?" Lieu questioned.  
  
Bosco produced a business card. Lieu studied it for a moment before writing some of the information on a notepad before handing the car back to Bosco.  
  
"If you two will excuse me for a few minutes, I need to talk to the Captain. It shouldn't take long."  
  
"How did you get here?" I asked Bosco after Lieu had left the room.  
  
"Mrs. Fantenelli...she said she'd drop me off since it was on her way," Bosco stated with a laugh. "I don't think she was going anywhere near here but you know how she is?"  
  
Lieu returned a few minutes later.  
  
"I gave Attorney Garrett's information to my Captain. I'm sure the attorneys for the city and the department will be in touch with him."  
  
We talked with Lieu for a little while longer before Lieu suggested that maybe I should show Bosco around. I figured what could it hurt? It might even trigger a memory. We toured the roll call room, the locker room and were walking down a hallway when I got a phone call. It wasn't anything major...just a follow-up call from something that'd happened early in the shift. When I returned, I found Bosco staring at a sketch.  
  
"Faith?"  
  
"Yeah Bosco..."  
  
"I know him," he replied, by now pointing at the sketch.  
  
"You know him? Who?" I said, glancing over his shoulder to see who he was pointing at.  
  
"This guy..."  
  
By now he had not only my attention but Sully, Ty, and Lieu's.  
  
"You know this guy?" Lieu questioned.  
  
""The other day....at the furniture store...remember that guy...the one who made the comment about how that tone wasn't necessary?"  
  
"Him?" I replied, taking a closer look.  
  
"Yeah...take away the mustache and the long hair and I'm sure that's the same guy."  
  
"Faith?" Lieu questioned, waiting for my opinion  
  
Putting my finger over the mustache, I took another look.  
  
"I think he's right Lieu...the guy at the store had longer hair and didn't have the mustache and this sketch is several months old. But the eyes, the nose, the shape of his face. I really think it's the same guy."  
  
By the end of my shift, Joe Phillips aka Ray Patterson was in custody. It was a welcome site to see Sully, Ty, and Lieu all patting Bosco on the back.  
  
I gave Bosco a ride home after the shift was over.  
  
"So that guy...what'd he do?" Bosco asked.  
  
"Joe Phillips/Ray Patterson...he was mixed up in all kinds of illegal stuff. Allegedly he's a key man in a drug operation. I heard some talk tonight that he's also suspected to be involved in a series of jewelry dealings."  
  
"So did anyone get hurt tonight?"  
  
I glanced over at him as we pulled up in front of his place.  
  
"Nobody got hurt tonight Bosco. It was a good day...a very good day."  
  
I know if I'd have looked in the mirror I would have seen a huge smile on my face. When Bosco showed up at the station after being served, I had a bad feeling. But now, I figured I was beaming with pride for what Bosco had accomplished. So maybe I had mothered him...maybe I still did.  
  
"So how'd the catalogs work out for you? Did you find anything you liked?"  
  
"I didn't get a chance to look at them," he explained. "I started to but then that guy showed up at the door with those papers."  
  
"You up for checking out a few tonight?"  
  
He may have said he was up for checking out a few but he wasn't up for long. About a half hour after he took a seat in that chaise of his, I glanced over to find him sound asleep.  
  
I sat across the room watching him for a few minutes; my head filled with so many things. The Bosco I'd known for over twelve years was one of the most complex people I'd ever met. But yet the Bosco I'd grown to know these past two months was quite possibly even more complex. It was almost like knowing someone like the back of your hand only to discover something completely new about them. The past two months I discovered this side of Bosco that I'd never known. He had this ability to just let things go. The baggage-ridden Bosco I'd known didn't have that capacity. He had a hard time opening up to people and that often made things worse once they were given enough time to fester in his head. This version of Bosco had this amazing sense of humor. Given his current position and what he'd been through these past eight weeks, I don't know if I'd have the ability to laugh so soon much less the ability to accept what was handed to him. But, he also didn't have the childhood memories holding him back...defining who he was. My only question was who was the real Bosco? To look at him sleeping in that chaise, physically he appeared to be the same guy I'd known for so long. Lying beneath the photo of himself along with his mother and brother was a connection to his past yet a sad reminder of what was lost...what was missing in his life. Yet, I knew that once he opened his eyes, everything with old Bosco was gone...with the exception of one thing. He was still one of the most important people in my life. It was an amazing feeling to know that not even a loss of memory could destroy what Bosco and I had.  
  
In the past, he'd often accused me of mothering him. Others had done the same. Maybe that was true. Maybe I did mother him. One would have to agree as I pulled a lightweight blanket from the end of the couch, placing it over him. On the other hand, maybe some things had changed. Maybe things between us would never be the same. That thought entered my mind seconds after I placed a soft kiss on his lips. 


	9. Visions of a life once lived 9

Faith woke to the smell of coffee. At some point, she'd fallen asleep on the couch in my living room.

"Bosco?" Faith said, once she figured out where she was. I noticed her from the doorway...my hair damp from the shower. I was dressed in jeans and an old NYPD t-shirt. Judging by the look on Faith's face, it was something she'd seen before.

"You want some breakfast?" I asked. "I'm not much of a cook but I could fix you something if you're hungry."

"Just some coffee would be nice."

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned, taking a seat on an ottoman across from her.

"Sure," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She wasn't quite awake yet but the coffee was helping.

"You've known me for a long time...pretty much of my life as an adult you've been there in some capacity. So, I was wondering if maybe we could go for a drive...stop by some places that were a part of my life. You know like we did yesterday at the police station."

"Was anything familiar about the station yesterday?"

She sounded hopeful that maybe I remembered something about the station. It'd been over two months and I guess the longer I didn't remember, the more concerned she got. Unfortunately, my answer wasn't what she's looking for.  
  
"Not really...I mean I don't remember the place....the offices or the people except for the ones I've met since the shooting. But I did feel something there...like I'd been there before."

"How do you mean?" she questions with good reason. I'm not making much sense.

"I don't know...I mean I can't really explain it other than I had these feelings that I'd been there before...like I know the place only I didn't remember anything about it."

"This feeling you had...was it a good feeling like it was someplace you liked or was it a feeling like you didn't want to be there?"

"Neither one really" I try to answer where it actually makes sense. "Like I said, I just felt like I'd been there before."  
  
She took a long drink of her coffee before continuing.

"Okay so maybe going to some places you spent a lot of time is a good idea. Before we do, I need to go home and change my clothes and we really should eat something."  
  
After a little debating, we decided to stop by her place. Along the way, we stopped off to grab some stuff at the supermarket. I wasn't kidding about being able to make breakfast or lunch since it was actually lunch time. She joined me in the kitchen, looking over my shoulder where I stood in front of the stove.

"Smells great Bosco," she said before reaching into a cupboard, pulling out a couple plates.

What she said smells great is merely scrambled eggs with a few extras. While they were cooking I added some bacon, peppers, cheese, and spices.

She took her plate over to the table while I follow her taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. She must be hungry 'cause she wastes no time eating.

"This is good..."  
  
"It'd be better if I could actually cook," I say before admitting the truth. "Most people add stuff and call it an omelet. Every time I try to cook one, it ends up looking like a mess so I gave up. I can't seem to get the one half to fold over the other. I just dump everything in while the scrambled eggs while they're cooking."

"I think it's good just the way it is."

She let me off the hook for my inabilities to cook which was fine with me.

After we finished eating, she grabbed a pencil and paper and started writing.

"Another list?"  
  
She glanced up at me from her writing, a smile on her face.

"You make a lot of lists?"

"I guess I do," she said. "I thought I'd make a list of some of the places we should go to and then make a plan so we don't end up driving back and forth."

With the list and breakfast dishes complete, we left Faith's place.

Our first stop was an odd place. To me it wasn't really a place.

"So what is this place?" I asked.

"It's not really a place that 'we' used to go to. It's a place you and Mikey used to come to as kids. Whenever your mom and dad got into fights or shouting matches, you and Mikey would come out here. You called it the fort."

"The fort? Mikey was here right? Isn't this the place where we were when the police were looking for him? The place my fa...the place Anthony told the police about...the reward money thing?"

"Yeah, this is that place."

"We used to come here...me and Mikey? To get away from home when my parents were fighting...but Anthony knew about it?"

"I'm not sure how he knew but apparently he did since this is where he sent the police when they were looking for Mikey."

We spent quite a bit of time at the fort...talking about me and Mikey...about the days following Mikey's arrest. Faith talked about stuff she knew about my childhood, some of it was new to me. My neighbors had mentioned some stuff about the divorce and what led up to it but that had been the extent of it. Faith told me about the day ma came to get me at school, took me to lunch, and told me about the divorce.

I guess it shouldn't have surprised her that I asked about her kids and the pending divorce between her and Fred. Maybe she was surprised that I knew about it. She was also surprised to hear about how much time I'd spent with Ty Davis.

"So that's where you heard about me and Fred? From Ty?"

"Yeah, he told me about it but only after I questioned him about it."

"So what made you ask Ty? I mean you could have asked me about it?"  
  
"I'm sorry...I guess I figured you had enough to deal with. I knew things weren't good between the two of you...I mean he was clear on that the day he came to visit me in the hospital."

"I still can't believe he did that."

She shook her head as I continued.

"He said a lot of stuff....stuff that made sense and some that didn't," I explained as we left the fort. "Underneath it all, I got this feeling that he didn't believe that I didn't know who he was...like I was faking it. At one point he went as far as to say that it was 'awfully convenient' that I could destroy so many lives and not remember any of it."

"He had no right talking to you like that Bosco. Bu that was typical Fred," Faith replied as she parked the car. "Everything that ever went wrong was someone else's fault."

"What's this place?" I asked, staring at a building.

"It's a doctor's office," Faith explained, making no effort to get out of the car. "A few years back, I insisted that Fred have a checkup. We came her one afternoon. We were in the elevator leaving to go home when the city experienced a blackout. So there we were, me and Fred, stuck in an elevator. While we were in there, Fred had a heart attack. I don't remember exactly what happened but apparently you were at work and I didn't show up so they sent you out on the streets alone. At some point, you went by my apartment looking for me. Emily told you about the doctor's appointment and you showed up here just as I was coming out of the building with Fred. We put him in the back of the RMP and rushed him to the hospital. He almost died a few times but they managed to keep him alive long enough to take him into surgery."

"So I went by your apartment looking for you just 'cause you didn't show up for work?"

"You had a lot of little habits that drove me crazy," she said with a smile. I took that for what it was worth. "One of those was that once you got something in your head, you didn't let it go no matter what anyone told you. Lieu said every time you brought someone in that night that you'd ask if they'd heard from me. They kept telling you they'd call you as soon as they did. Apparently you were too stubborn for that. You got tired of waiting for them to call...for me to show up...you were determined to find me so you went looking for me on your own. Fred was lucky that you did. He'd never admit it especially to you but he would have died had you not been so persistent in finding me."

"Stubborn huh?" I said with a grin on my face.

"Very...your stubborn side was just one thing you did that drove me crazy."

"I drove you crazy? How?"

She ignored my question while pulling back into traffic. We drove for about fifteen minutes before she pulled the car to a stop.

"You see that building over there? The red brick with the green awning?"

"Yeah."

"One night while you were working by yourself, you used the RMP for a little extracurricular activity."

"Extracurricular activity? Do I wanna hear about this?"

She smiled and I had my answer.

"Seems you and the captain's daughter were otherwise occupied in the RMP."

"Occupied? Extracurricular activity? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
"You had sex with the captain's daughter while on duty. Only problem was there's a camera up there and everything was caught on tape. Captain found out about it but he never figured out that it was his own daughter on the tape."

I'm not sure why Faith was enjoying sharing this story with me but she was. I guess she was entitle to a little fun. I just wasn't sure if it should come at my expense. Either way, it was nice to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

"The unusual part of this whole mess was that it was probably one of he few conquests of yours that I didn't hear about...until later anyway but by then it was pretty much common knowledge."  
  
"You're kidding? I talked to you about my sex life?"

"Yeah you did and more often than not you did so in more detail that was really necessary."  
  
For some reason, unknown to me, Faith enjoyed playing with my mind when it came to my sex life...that was a subject that should have been dropped...should have.

It was over a quick dinner that Faith continued my sexual history. I learned about someone named Nicole and how Faith went from hating her to taking her side. She told me how Nicole had only dated me 'cause it would piss off her father. I had a ton of questions only I was smart enough not to ask most of them. I never said I was a genius.

"So whatever happened with this Nicole?"

"Long story short, you accused her of being a slut and she broke up with you."

See what I mean...genius to dunce in a matter of seconds.

From there we continued driving around. She drove through almost all of what was 55-David's sector. Along the way I heard all about Tory as well as a few others who'd crossed my path.

"So did you ever like anyone I dated?"

"I liked Nicole...."

"Was that before or after I called her a slut?"

"After of course."

"I guess that answers that question. So did Fred and I ever get along or has he always hated me?"  
  
"I guess there was a time that you two got along. For the most part, you were at least civil to one another. It was only during the past year or so that it got really bad between you two."

We stopped again, this time I was completely baffled by our location.

"What's this?"  
  
"A bridge."

"I can see that," I replied to her obvious answer. "Why are we here?"  
  
"We spent a lot of time here."

"We spent a lot of time at a bridge...an old bridge...a very old bridge that happens to be overgrown with weeds. So what's this all about...this bridge I mean?"  
  
"Well it's like this," she began what sounded like a long story. "You had this thing where you didn't like to take certain calls. Sully used to get so mad."

She says this while laughing so I'm hoping there's a humorous spot in this story.

"Anyway, we'd come here and sit and we'd hear these calls come in for really stupid stuff."  
  
"Stupid stuff? What kind of stupid stuff?"

"Calls that you felt didn't earn the description of an emergency. Anyway, we'd sit here, listening to all kinds of calls coming over the radio and you'd ignore them. Of course when you ignored them, guess who'd end up answering most of them?"

"Who?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"55-Charlie...Sully and Davis...Sully used to accuse you of modeling the uniform instead of working."

"Didn't the boss get mad at us for ignoring calls?"  
  
"Nope, I guess they figured since you were working with me that I wouldn't be ducking calls so they didn't say anything."

"Ducking calls?"

"Ignoring calls...ducking calls....same thing."

"So the two of us worked together for a long time...how is it that we worked together for so long if we're so different?"  
  
"Now that's the question everyone wanted an answer to."

"So what would be your answer be?"  
  
"I guess if I had to answer I'd say it was because I knew you better than anyone else. Deep down you were a good cop. You had your own way of doing things sometimes which wasn't always good but sometimes your way worked the best. For instance, there was this time this little girl was missing...her mom was mixed up with drugs. Anyway, her aunt was here from Chicago looking for her. We were working on the case and I remember this aunt from Chicago questioning how you did things. I told her that if it was one of my kids was missing, you would be the guy I'd want out looking for her. I really believed that Bosco. When it came to that kind of thing...where kids were involved or people we knew...that side of you...that stubborn, determined side of you came through and you refused to give up."

"So this little girl that was missing....we found her?"  
  
"Yeah we did...you did...she was okay. You know I kinda thought maybe you and the aunt might have gotten together had she not been from Chicago."

"And would you have approved of that one?"

"Sure....she was a doctor....she was smart but she was still down to earth you know? And she adored her niece. I mean she left her job to come here looking for her. What's not to like about that?"

"So what about us...you said we didn't hit it off right away but by the time we graduated from the academy, we were friends?"

"Yeah you helped me with the shooting range and I helped you with the written part."

"And then we met again at the 55th precinct and ended up partners. How'd that happen?"  
  
"I needed a partner, you needed a partner. You had this delightful attitude and I don't think anyone else wanted to work with you."

"And you say this while laughing because why exactly?"

"Because I knew you...I knew that behind that attitude there was a good guy and a good cop. I was right about that. Sure we had some rough days but we were always able to work through them."

"So everyone at the 55th was happy about this but Fred didn't take it too well?"  
  
"He did and he didn't. After I got shot he didn't want me to go back to being a cop. It's been a long time and being a cop was important to me. Despite everything that'd happened between you and me last year, I still knew there wasn't anyone I wanted for a partner more than you. I trusted you. After the shooting, something inside me said I wanted to be partners with you again."

"So what happened with me and Fred....that had to be about us working together right?"

"Yeah, partners who've been together as long as we had...they create a bond and the bond between us was strong. Fred didn't understand that...I'm not sure if he even tried. In a sense, I think that maybe he didn't understand it and he was jealous that we talked about so much of our personal lives."

"You mean my sex life?"

"That too."

"So did you talk about your sex life with Fred?"

"Not as much as I heard about your sex life but sometimes I did. Usually it was to get a reaction out of you."

"A reaction out of me? Like what kind of reaction?"

"Every time I'd bring up my sex life with Fred, you'd make this face...this face like you were disgusted by it. You never failed to make me laugh when you made that face. You would have thought after a while that you would have just ignored me when I brought up Fred."

"What did you expect? I mean come on Faith...look at you...look at Fred. He's not exactly the type I'd expect to see you with."

"And what type is that?"

"He's an ass for one thing. He thinks he doesn't do anything wrong...that everything is someone else's fault. How did you put up with that?"  
  
"And what type do you see me with?"

"Someone you can talk to about stuff...someone who listens to you...someone who makes an effort to understand your job and what it means to you and not make you choose between your marriage and a career."

She sees humor in my thoughts which strikes me as odd but I go along with it.

"Now what?"

"You know there were people who met us for the first time that thought you and I were married?"

"And?"

"And I guess I understood it. I mean sometimes we did act like a married couple."

"Did we ever sleep together?"

I guess I caught her off guard with that question. It takes her a minute or so before she looks me in the eye but she eventually comes up with an answer.

"No, we didn't. I was married the whole time we were partners."

"So we didn't sleep together because we didn't want to or because you were married to Fred the whole time?"  
  
"We didn't sleep together because you weren't the type to sleep with a married woman and I would never have slept with someone else when I was married."

"Okay so we didn't have sex...did I ever kiss you?"

There's that humor again. I don't remember anything about my life before the shooting so I wonder if I was funny back then.

"No," she says with a smile. "You didn't kiss me."

"But you kissed me last night..."

I can tell by her expression that she's surprised.

"I thought you were asleep last night."

"So if I'd been awake, you wouldn't have kissed me?"  
  
"It's not that Bosco, it's..."  
  
It's obvious I've made her uncomfortable and I didn't mean for that to happen.

"You don't have to answer that..." I said, trying to take back the question.

"It's okay Bosco," she said, collecting her thoughts. "It's just that I've known you for a long time...the person you were before this shooting anyway....he was one of the most complex people I'd ever met. Things happened in your life that a lot of people didn't know...most people didn't know but yet you trusted me enough to share them. Some of them were painful memories. That bond between us didn't develop over night. It took years and a lot of trust. Likewise, I shared a lot of things with you...sometimes things that I didn't even tell Fred. Sometimes I told you things before I told Fred. On the outside we looked like opposites but that's because that's the side of you that you let people see. I saw more than that. When you got shot, when you woke up and looked at me, there was something missing. You see, every time something happened to me, you'd drive everyone crazy until you knew I was okay. When you opened your eyes in the hospital, I knew something was missing. In the past, you would have seen me and there would have been this relief in your eyes when you saw me and when you realized that I was okay. I knew the moment you looked at me for the first time that something was very wrong."

"That's why you looked so sad?"  
  
I can tell by her expression that she's not following what I'm talking about.

"When I first woke up, you were there. I remember you smiled at me and then in an instant that smile was gone and you looked sad. That was when you realized something was wrong wasn't it?"

"Yeah...that was when I realized it."

"I kept waiting for you to come back. It took a long time. When you did, you still looked sad. I guess I was confused as to why you smiled and then got so sad."

"I felt like I'd lost my best friend...like that guy I knew and trusted was gone. Then last night....after we left the station...after you recognized that guy from the furniture store...it was like I was seeing this side of you that I knew. In a way I guess I did but yet there's more to it than that. As complex as you were before, I think you're even more now. I mean if I'd awaken in the hospital with no memory I don't think I could have handled it the way you have. I know I wouldn't be smiling as much as you have and I certainly wouldn't be laughing and enjoying my life. It still amazes me that you could do that."

"I've had my share of bad days. I guess I just don't show it. You know what amazes me? You do...the way you stuck by me even though I don't remember anything about you or our past. A lot of people wouldn't have stuck with me. I'm sure a lot of people haven't. I just don't remember them to know if they have or not. When I was still in the hospital, this one nurse...Mary...she told me the best advice she could give me was to trust my instincts. My instincts told me to trust you and that's what I've tried to do."

"I'm glad you listened to Mary. I'm also glad you followed your instincts 'cause I can't imagine you not being a part of my life."

"Faith?"

"Yeah Bosco?"

"If my instincts told me to kiss you would you still be glad that I followed them?"

I was hoping her smile was a good sign. She placed her hands on my shoulders slowly sliding them up to my face. When I kissed her for the first time, she didn't slap me and I think that was a good sign. Good enough for me to kiss her again. The fact that she kissed me back and that the kisses that followed grew with intensity...that was more than a good sign. I hoped that I'd put an end to that sad look I'd seen in her eyes.


End file.
